


For want of companion

by AzulticSerpens



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: AU, Background Het, FrostIron - Freeform, M/M, Post Avengers (Movie), Slash, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-23
Updated: 2013-05-01
Packaged: 2017-12-09 06:20:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/770996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AzulticSerpens/pseuds/AzulticSerpens
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Several months after the battle in New York, Tony escapes the confines of Stark Tower for a drink in Manhattan. And who should he find to his surprise but Loki? The two find themselves nurturing a tentative rapport. Is it fate or something else? Slow-build FrostIron.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chances Are

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for some language and mentions of alcoholism in this chapter.

_BANG_

Tony twitched.

Tony shook off the noise that broke through his concentration attempted to focus his thoughts again.  He turned back to his screen to resume his changes to the Mark VII suit.  He was sweeping a hand over the hologram screen to rotate the model of the improved suit 360 degrees when—

_CLANG_

Tony twitched again.  He glanced back at the screen and hastily stopped the suit, which had locked into a spin at full tilt —from his jerk at the abrupt noise. He checked to make sure that none of his changes had been undone. Tony let out an unconscious breath in relief.

Any errors at this stage, no matter how insignificant, could mean life or death. Especially if he had to grab the suit and rush into a fight, like he did just two months ago.

He shot a dirty look upwards at the ceiling of his temporary workshop.  Right at the source of his distraction.

As if in response to his glare, thumping echoed through the building.

There were workmen in his building. Sweaty workmen in Stark Tower _again_ , he thought with a tic working in his eye now.

Tony wondered if he was developing a nervous twitch for fault of the workers repairing the damage. This being the very same destruction that the Chitauri (and an errant Hulk, on occasion) wreaked on New York City.

He screwed up his face. At least they weren’t in _his private_ _elevator_ , he tried to console himself.

He made another attempt to return to his suit modifications. _Where to work on next?_ He thought about the battle in NYC, and a near-glaring problem he could improve on hit him like Thor’s hammer. Tony remembered perfectly how he had been free falling an alarmingly long time until his suit had finally fastened on to him, but not before he scared the hell out of some hipsters he almost hit on the sidewalk. He had to suppress a rather strong sense of _schadenfreude_ and the inappropriate feeling of hilarity he now felt in retrospect. It was ridiculously comical how some people reacted to not quite getting hit.

And then he sobered up once he thought about the circumstances. He began to ponder whether changing _this part_ and _that_ _part_ , or _that_ _bit_ of hydraulics could shorten the time it took to latch on to him. He tapped his holo-screen to open an application to record some calculations and then proceeded to input variables and various numbers.

The sound of metal hitting metal rang through Tony’s ears and he cringed. He scanned the last section of his computations and saw that it was a jumbled mess.

“ARGH!” he growled in frustration. The racket the workers were making was throwing him off his game!

That was the last straw.

“JARVIS,” he ordered, “Get those workmen out of my building.”

“I cannot, sir. Miss Potts specifically stated that they were not to leave, save the completion of their work,” JARVIS responded

Tony streadfastedly ignored the twinge he felt at hearing _her_ name.

JARVIS added, “She also threatened to remain at Mister Roger’s abode.”

Ah, how could he forget? Tony remembered how he carelessly made another comment that put the likes of the “12 percent” remark to shame. And how Pepper immediately got angry; no word of Tony’s could calm her down. And then _he_ got frustrated and threw hurtful words around. Oh boy, it was a fight to remember alright.

All of the fear and frustration that he had bottled up since the battle in New York City was shattered at the words of criticism that Pepper jabbed at him.

She left three days ago, dealing one last blow— in which she said that maybe _Steve_ might treat her better.

That really stung and it was a testament to Pepper’s all-knowingness about him. Pepper knew him better than any other person he’d been with.  And he cursed himself continually for letting her get so close. She really did know where to hit him where it hurt.

And he didn’t really have anything against Rogers. Not much at all.

Just that he resented the self-righteous man for various deeply personal reasons. Solely those concerning his father. That ‘Capsicle’ was one of the few things his father had never stopped talking about. Maybe that was the source of his much denied grudge.

Huh. He didn’t really know for sure and didn’t really care to psychoanalyze himself. Oh, _that_ would not go well.  He had some issues, alright. And it wasn’t like he couldn’t work with the Captain because of them. He worked _plenty enough_ with the walking science experiment.

Tony felt something like a migraine coming on. He exhaled noisily and then decided to give up working on the suit for now. Maybe he needed something to take his mind off his problems. Or someone.  

“JARVIS, can you tell me where Bruce is?” he asked the program.

JARVIS responded, “Doctor Banner is currently located in the ninth floor laboratory.”

Bingo.

“Thanks, JARVIS.” Tony told him and then left the workshop whistling a tune he couldn’t remember.

Tony walked through the hallway and got in the waiting elevator, courtesy of JARVIS. He pressed the button for floor nine and tapped his fingers to the rock music piped into the elevator as he waited.

The elevator doors dinged open and he sauntered into the hall, quickly making a right turn. He found himself in a frosted glass passage that ended in a door accessible only by handprint scan.

He pressed his hand to the scanner and tried to peer through the glass. Tony felt a restlessness rising in him and surged through the doorway when it finally opened.

“Heeeey!” he called out to the expansive lab, “Anyone there?”

When no response was forthcoming, he ventured into the depths of the modern laboratory that he himself designed. Spying a familiar head hunched over a computer screen, Tony inched forward silently. He could sense his mischievous nature getting the best of him right then. Heh, he could give Bruce a little scare. For science, of course.

And when he was nearly upon his friend and teammate, Bruce said without looking up, “Don’t even try it, Tony.”

Tony deflated, his plans of surprising Bruce thwarted.

“Aw, you’re no fun.” Tony whined.

“I’m working on an important experiment,” Bruce stated, long-suffering expression set on his face.

“Take a break,” Tony suggested offhandedly. He began to observe the instruments and specimens on the table with interest.

“It’s too delicate to leave alone at this stage,” Bruce said, and then added, “Don’t touch that, it’s highly radioactive.”

Caught, Tony retracted his arm guiltily from the tank of lizards.

“So, you don’t want to go out later?” he asked.

Bruce sighed. “Sorry, Tony, I really can’t go out for drinks. I think I might be at a breakthrough in my research.”

Tony’s heart sank. Seems like he might have to risk it and go drinking alone.

“Alright then. If you don’t hear from me in a day or so, start emergency protocol TS-beta-seven-five. I might be walking the streets of Manhattan drunk and half-naked or something.” Tony joked, as he walked away to exit the lab.

“God help whoever you might mentally scar with your nakedness,” Bruce teased.

“Hey! I’ll have you know I‘ve been on the cover of GQ magazine more times than I can remember! Though why I can’t remember how many times it was…probably 'cause of those _spectacular_ drinks they made for me at the shoots.  And, uh…oh yeah, I was one of People Magazine’s Sexiest Men a couple of years ago too!” Tony shouted over his shoulder as he left the lab.

His statement was acknowledged with a round of chuckles from Bruce, before the frosted glass door automatically slid closed.

Tony shook his head indulgently at the antics he shared with his buddy. Even when working on something, Bruce always had a couple of words for him. And with all they went through those short couple of months ago in New York was something he’d be hard pressed to forget. They’d had true teamwork going, and they had been picking off the Chitauri, one by one. And then that one moment, when he had closed his eyes to space —and resigned himself to dying—he was awoken by the roar of a giant green rage-monster. Tony felt indebted to Bruce for saving him from eternal sleep.  Who knew he’d find such a dependable and, most of all, great friend in Doctor Banner?

But he abruptly sobered when his thoughts strayed toward Pepper. Exactly the subject he had been trying to forget in the rush of work. It looked like he might have to go to the tried and true method of drinking his sorrows away. He had thought he could get Bruce to go along and keep an eye on his drinking.  But it seemed that he might have to drink alone tonight. Tony knew he got a bit _strange_ after he’d had a couple of drinks. Especially nowadays, he turned out to be a depressing drunk. 

And it wasn't just the threat of ending up a depressing drunk that scared him a little.

Right after the Avengers dispatched the Chitauri, he took a bit of a road trip. It was just Tony and Bruce, bros in battle and off.

Not that he didn't enjoy Rhodey as a friend, but sometimes the man put the military first (Tony wasn't going to even think about his complete fuck-up at his birthday party that led to Rhodey having to take the suit).

And when Bruce wasn't around on the trip, sometimes Tony would _slip_...

He had slipped a whole lot of times. Back into the alcholism he'd gained during his many years as playboy.

He _knew_ it wasn't healthy. He _knew_ he shouldn't be drinking that heavily and frequently, especially with the strain it might put on the reactor. And he _knew_ it wasn't normal behavior to drown ones sorrow in alcohol.

But sometimes... remembering how it felt to have _every system he relied on_  suddenly _fail as he went through the portal into space_ , that sensation of _helplessness_ _pressing on him from all sides_ —

It was just better to stifle those feelings.

He headed wearily to the elevator and pressed the button labeled ‘P’. And then had his eye scanned by the retinal scan, installed specially for his private floors. The music playing in the elevator relaxed him a bit and he forgot his troubles for a while.

‘P’ for penthouse, of course. He needed to get the right clothes for the snobby Manhattan bar he had in mind. He didn’t think that they’d let him in with his old rock band t-shirts, even with him being Tony Stark.

He could feel some of the old excitement returning back to him, faced with the prospect of a night out on the town. It had been a long time since he could go out and get drinks at a club alone and unattached.

His private elevator doors opened with a ding. He stepped out with a flourish. The night was still young and there were still many memories to drown and hope they went away.

He only hoped that he wouldn't get swept away too.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Tony looked around the bar that was barely starting to fill up. He took a sip of his drink and felt it buzz slightly through his veins.

He sighed. He was starting to think that alcohol wouldn’t do much for him.

 _Maybe nothing would_ , he mused as he stared at the bottom of his glass. After all, his relationship with Pepper had been the longest he’d ever had in his life. What with his commitment issues and playboy lifestyle before his capture in Afghanistan…

He snorted quietly to himself, causing a man in a coat a seat away from him at the bar to tense up.

He’d never thought he would see the day that he was in a club, seated alone at the bar, and mourning a long-term relationship’s end. And a relationship that lasted more than a couple of nights, at that.

If he told his past self that one day he’d be moping (basically) in bar, because a girlfriend broke up with him, he’d be laughed to the door. The entirety of his twenties and early thirties were spent living the crazy lifestyle of getting drunk most of the time and waking up with a stranger.

Maybe he just wasn’t suited for long periods of time with a person. Maybe that was just how he was. He had a high stress ‘job’ —if one could call it that— with strange hours. How could he ever expect anyone to understand his life? Or even him?

A lot of the major news networks still loved to criticize him about the damage he inadvertently caused while fighting the Chituari, the hypocrites. He fucking saved their precious city from nuclear destruction and that was the thanks that he got?

He fumed silently at his glass and mutilated an olive angrily. And then his anger was quickly spent as he remembered all his reasons for even becoming Iron Man. 

It was just better this way. No one to fight with over things he couldn’t and would not change. No one to endanger. No one to expect impossible things from him.

Tony looked around again at the high-profile clientele at the Manhattan club he was in. He _could_ find someone to take the edge off of his pain, if only for one night.

He braced himself to charm any random, unattached, beautiful woman around. He stood from the barstool and turned around to lean backwards on the counter.

“Hey,” he said to a pretty red-haired lady standing alone with a pink drink in her hand.

She took one look at him, and seemed to recognize him. The lady started acting coquettishly as soon as she realized who he was.

At this point Tony didn't even care if she was just using him for his name, he just continued to sweep her off her feet. Which, admittedly, didn't take long because she was probably a fan or something.

Suddenly, she happened to glance at something to his left. A look of terror overtook her lovely features and she turned on her pointy heel to scurry away without a single glance behind.

“What--?” Tony mumbled, befuddled. He turned around to see what might've scared her off but just saw a bunch of lonely bachelors like him drinking at the bar.

He tried several more times on other women in the club, with varying degrees of—slight—success. But in the end, they all managed to get away from him.

Tony sat down again, defeated and bravado subdued by the rejections. Hell, it seemed that his reputation preceded him everywhere.

Suddenly befallen with even darker thoughts, Tony signaled the bartender for another shot, and proceeded to down it in a single gulp. He felt a little more buzz this time, but it still wasn’t enough.

He looked around wildly, and spotted the drink of the man next to him. Tony told the bartender, “I’ll have whatever he’s having.”

The bartender tried to refuse, “But, sir—“, but Tony waved him off. A moment later, he was served a drink identical to the man’s next to him.

He took a sip of the drink and had to stop himself from spluttering at the intensity of the concoction. Tony’s head swum for a split second.

He made a face at the glass. If his many years of experience with liquor weren’t wrong, then this specific blend had at least a couple of good shots of 190 proof alcohol.

Tony made his face fall back into an easy outgoing expression to mask his mental and physical recovery. That guy next to him sure could hold his alcohol. Sounded like his type of guy. Ideas of befriending the man—if only for the moment—crossed his inebriated mind. 

He grasped them, and thought, _Why not? Nothing to lose._

He cleared his throat and leaned across the bar to address the man.

“So…come here much?”

There was a beat of silence that club music continued to fill, before the coat-clad man next to him acknowledged him.

“I think not,” the dark haired man said and, before Tony could think about where he had heard the voice before, the stranger turned in his seat, a devilish smirk upon his face.

Tony gawped at the stranger uncomprehendingly. He looked the dark stranger up and down, hardly believing his eyes. And then gave him another once-over just to be sure.

Tailored coat, juxtaposed by cobalt blue dress shirt and dark jeans. And… a deceivingly striking face that could only belonged to one person.

_What? This can’t be real._

 “Cat got your tongue, Stark?” said Loki, unsettling green eyes boring into him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um. So...shit got dark really fast, if you pardon the saying.
> 
> As I went through this chapter for errors, I kept adding more in. So that is to blame for the semi- angst. Some of you might recognize the "Demon in a Bottle" elements from the comics.
> 
> Also, brownie points to whoever can recognize where the chapter title "Chances Are" is from!  
> Hint: it is related to one of our lovely leading men.
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy my first attempt at Avengers fic. Next chapter is already written and will be posted soon.
> 
> 22 April 2013


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for some language.
> 
> Authors Note: I know some of you guys really enjoyed the last chapter (and that cliffhanger I bet!) . I hope I don't disappoint you. Tony may seem a bit OOC, but as he's drunk, well... people act weird.

 

_Oh, fuckfuckfuck._ Tony thought.His brain abruptly crashed and then rebooted. 

But then again, it was probably the all the shots he steadily drank over the course of the night, not including that complete bomb of alcohol he just had a couple of sips of.

Speaking of...

Tony grabbed the glass and gulped down some of the drink feverishly, thinking it might dispel the illusion (and delusion) of Loki.

That must be just the thing. Tony hadn't had anything stronger than 140 proof in a while. All thanks to Pepper, who only let him drink 'lighter' beverages. Hmph. Now that she was gone-  _probably for good_ , a voice whispered - he was free to do what he wanted.

Tony expected to feel lightened, freed somehow, by that revelation. But it just made him feel like she tore something out of him when she left, like everyone was always doing.

The first had been his father, who he still felt was never completely there with him as a kid. He might've been there in body, humoring Tony as a kid, but he always  _saw_. Saw how his dad took more time than he should to respond to Tony's unending questions about everything (he'd been an inquisitive child). Those few, precious seconds were the bright, blaring sign in Tony's young mind that his father wasn't completely there with him. When he grew up, he knew what was on his dad's mind for all those years.

The burden of constantly thinking; thinking what to do next, how things could be changed and improved and innovated and invented and all for the better.

Just not for Tony's good.

The price of being a genius. Tony himself felt it constantly. But that was no excuse for his dad, who was given everything Tony could offer and for him did everything he could and sometimes even more, just hoping that his dad might give him that much yearned for approval. 

_"That's nice, Tony,"_ he'd say _, "Run along now, your father's working on something important."_  And then Tony would run along as he'd been told, but he stopped just out of sight to watch his father scribbling as he always did in that notebook of his.

He'd been angry (as a child could be) at first. But over time, he resigned himself to being second-rate to his father's work.

Perhaps deep-down he always had this desire to make his dad stop working and **really** look at him. Working like a madman all through school to get into MIT when most kids were just starting high school was not something most people did. And yet he did it anyway.

That old familiar anger began to simmer in his veins again. Or maybe it was the all those shots he downed. 

Remembering his drinking binge brought him back to the present. Where he continued to hallucinate Loki.

Hallucination-Loki had a bit of a nonplussed look on his face. Tony guessed it was because most people didn't zone out on the god very often. 

Yeah, he was hallucinating.

That must be why he was suddenly convinced that the Rock of Ages himself was here. In a club. Sitting coolly next to Tony at the bar.

His thoughts went in strange directions after that.

Oddly enough, Loki looked almost  _normal,_  which was a weird comparison and Tony decided right then and there to strike that thought from his mind. And that other random thought that whispered that Loki wasn’t too hard on the eyes.

_Might’ve even considered taking him hom_ — what  **the fuck**  was in that damn drink?

He barked out a derisive laugh that bordered on hysterical. The hell did his mind came up with? He'd imagined Loki accompanying him in a New York bar. And without a single scrap of leather or chain on him.

That Loki would be without ten pounds of leather was like trying to imagine Clint Barton without his bow and arrows. Just crazy.

“Just imagining things,” he muttered to himself reassuringly.                                                       

It was madness.

He  _had_  seen the trickster god transported with the power of the Tessaract back to his planet some months ago.

There was no way that Loki would be here…right?

“I’m dreaming again, aren’t I?”

And then he pinched himself for good measure. He did  _not_ want to add delusions to his current list of problems.

Besides, genius, playboy, billionaire,  _delusional_  philanthropist didn’t ring right anyway.

When the god in front of him, who currently had raised an eyebrow at him, did not disappear with his pinch as expected, Tony carried out his standard methods of investigation. He poked Loki.

“Does your idiocy know no bounds?” the hallucination told him incredulously.

Huh. He didn’t think his hallucinations could talk before.

“You’re not real, are you?” Tony queried, peering suspiciously at Loki and nearly nose to nose with him.

Loki observed him almost boredly, seemingly disinterested in the fact that Tony was breathing alcohol-laced breath on him. He tilted his head and said,

“I assure you, Stark, despite your puny mind’s protests of the contrary, I am  _entirely_ real.” Loki emphasized his words by  _caressing_ — Tony’s eyes flew wide open—the arc reactor that had resisted the power of his scepter. Loki captured the mortal’s gaze with his hypnotic stare, and then pressed his chest away from him until they were no longer nose to nose.

_Oh hell._ Tony suddenly felt sobriety hit him like a train.

Here he was, basically mentally and physically compromised from the alcohol he so stupidly and blindly downed—in an attempt to imitate a stranger’s drink. Who, in a plot twist to rival a mystery film’s development, turned out to be his enemy.

Loki gave him a smirk right then, a predatory gleam in his verdant eyes.

God, when did his life get so convoluted? He descended from the heights of Stark Tower to get some peace from his relationship problems, only to run into a galactic problem.

Tony tore his eyes away from Loki’s to search the club for any possible solution.  He scanned the mass of writhing bodies on the dance floor— _no help there_ , he thought,  _only potential_   _victims—_ the various people mingling near the walls of the club, were equally as helpful.

It looked like he was on his own. Again.

And who knew what chaos Loki had in mind this time around? He had to do something to stop him.

“Look here,  _Skippy_ ,” he told Loki firmly, trying to get the situation back in his favor, while jabbing a hand in Loki's general direction. Loki's eyes followed his hand motions warily but remained impassive, if not also slightly puzzled by his ever-changing moniker. Tony fixed the god with a determined stare.

“Whatever plans you’ve got rolling, don’t even think about it,” he continued, warning tone evident in his voice.

“Do I look like I have a plan?” Loki inquired sardonically, and then maintained his unrelenting silent observation.

With the god clamming up and refusing to say more, the current situation didn’t look all that good. Tony began listing several of many things wrong with this picture:

 

_Okay, I’ve got a previously caught enemy, who’d been presumed a prisoner of Asgard, sitting calm as_ _fuck_   _next to me._

**_Classification:_  **   _Not too good._

 

_He’s sitting in a bar full of potential victims in the very same city he wrecked with flying alien-things._

**_Classification:_  **   _Even worse._

 

_And I’m all without my suit. Alone without any of the team to help._

It was almost just like the first time he encountered Loki on his own without backup.

And even though he could get JARVIS to send the Mark VII suit his way, it wasn’t halfway ready for battle. He’d been working on it earlier and now wished he could smack his head on the counter for his stupidity, but he didn’t need any self-inflicted injuries before something potentially bad happened.

**_Classification_  ** _: Everything’s gone to hell._

He braced himself for battle, while planning ways of getting all the people out of there unhurt. He thought of how to take out the pounding music in the club. He strategized how to alert the rest of the Avengers of the circumstances. And then his mind to turned to Loki.

And yet-

He assessed the dark haired man that had turned away from him to watch the people on the floor and he felt confusion growing with him. 

It didn’t feel like any of those measures were necessary. For some reason… he wasn’t reading any malicious intent off the guy…

_I mean, besides the usual delightful personality quirks—_

Tony frowned as he scrutinized Loki’s body language.

As if on cue, Loki turned from drinking his glass to watch Tony's attempts at figuring him out with veiled amusement. 

_—he doesn’t look like he’s wanting to try anything._

Now it seemed like Loki’s previous statement might have had some truth to it.

_But that didn’t mean he isn’t going to cause trouble,_ Tony thought.

For God’s sake, Norse legends had Loki as the god of  _chaos_!If that wasn’t enough to be wary, the air of anticipation the man had around him was worrying.

Tony switched gears; if Loki really didn’t have any plan in mind, then what was he here for?

_Time for a new plan of attack._

“You know, it wouldn’t take all that long to get the rest of the guys here if you tried something,” he told him flippantly. “And even after a couple months, and even though we captured you,  _cupcake_ , _”_ Tony pointed at Loki, just to make sure the god knew what nickname he had given him.

And judging from the god’s scowl, he knew exactly what Tony was doing and wasn’t too pleased with him.

“Some of my friends still aren’t too happy with you. I hear Hawkeye’s still sore about not skewering your eyes with his arrows.” Tony said nonchalantly, tone still deceptively lighthearted despite underlying threats.

The god made an attempt to remain unfazed but Loki’s eyes had narrowed dangerously with the last statement. His hands clenched violently in an attempt to hold in his godly fury.

“So if you don’t want to have a little reunion, right here and right now, you’d better fess up to why you’re here instead of a cell on your little magical planet.” Tony continued, now clearly threatening Loki.

In some response to the effect of Tony’s ultimatum had on him, Loki’s demeanor went immediately from anger to a stone cold expression that radiated iciness.

If Tony hadn’t gotten familiar with Norse mythology recently, he would’ve thought that Loki was the god of ice, because he shivered from the now frosty feeling he got from Loki.

Loki turned away from Tony, looking stoically around the bar, literally and figuratively giving Tony the cold shoulder.

The genius sensed that Asgard was a sore subject with the god but continued in his interrogation anyway. Tony was never one to be denied, so he put himself back in the immortal’s personal space, leaning on the counter so they were shoulder to shoulder, satisfied that Loki stiffened infinitesimally from the contact.

“Well?” he demanded as irritatingly as he could, to prod Loki into answering.

Loki turned his head to glare at him. “And should I decline your proposal?” Loki bit out.

Tony’s expression didn’t change as he looked Loki in the eye, deadly serious now. “Then I guess you’ll enjoy some friendly  _bonding time_ with the rest of the Avengers.”

Loki seemed to shrink in on himself and then resigned himself to giving into to Tony’s demands.

“If you must know, I was taken to Asgard for sentencing.” Loki said, avoiding eye contact and looking upwards at the ceiling of the club.

Tony could see a great storm brewing in those green, green eyes. Greater than what he had glimpsed in his previous meeting with the god; back then, Loki had been past retreating from his mad plans of world domination. He began to wonder, curious in everything as he was. To wonder what really went through the slender man’s mind, to ponder what purpose drove him now…

A spectacularly drunk person elbowed him in the back, breaking his train of thought. And served to bring him back to his senses. Mostly.

 

_Whoa, whoa, now. Did I just mull over_   ** _Loki’s_  ** _eyes? The sworn enemy?_

Get a grip, he told himself. Don’t let the alcohol mess with you.

 

_Like that’s never happened before—_

He was no stranger to what problems he got himself into while inebriated. A lot of which was public embarrassment.  Frustration at the strange turn his thoughts had taken, and the man’s continuing silence, caused him to address Loki rather roughly.

“And then what? They forgive you or something? Throw a party in your honor?”

A nerve had been hit. Loki’s roaming eyes abruptly stopped and he went stiff. His eyes narrowed dangerously.

And then suddenly Loki was right in his face, an arm bordering each side of Tony’s body, clenching the bar countertop with his hands.

 

_Shit._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors Note:  
> Funnily enough, I had the general dialogue etc already typed and only needed to flesh out the chapter some more. My goal was at least 2k words, so...
> 
> Timothy got the question right about the previous chapter title ("Chances Are") being the name of the 1989 movie RDJ was in. I recommend you guys watch it. I just about died from the awkward.
> 
> I really appreciate the reviews I got for the last chapter and hope they keep coming *hint, hint*. I'd just like a little input on anything really. Even if you think the relationship isn't all there or if its going too fast.
> 
> Next chapter has been outlined and mostly written. Will be posting soon.
> 
> Uploaded 1 May 2013. Word count: 2,169.


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